


French Kissing

by Gold_Vermillion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash February, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gold_Vermillion/pseuds/Gold_Vermillion
Summary: A feel-good fragment in which Tonks and Fleur are disgustingly domestic.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: Femslash February





	French Kissing

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mini-ficlet for #femslash february. The prompt was for 7 Feb 2021: Lips.  
> The head-canon for this pairing comes from the fic “Leave the Children Behind” by montparnasse, whose writing I adore. Although I only make one oblique reference to the fic in this story (Fleur’s pet-name for Tonks) it was firmly in my head while I was writing this.

Fleur lets herself into the flat, smiling like summer, dressed in dark storm-purple-blue velvet robes and cream linen. It should be illegal to look that delectable. I’m glad that it’s not.  
“Do you know how long it took me to find that wine that you wanted? And then I had to mortgage my soul to the shop-keeper in order to afford it. Morgana’s saggy left…” She cuts me off with a kiss, chaste but hard, full on the mouth.  
“And on your day off, too, Nymphadora”, hands cupping the curve of my elbows, “the English have no class, we ‘ave already agreed. You should come with me to France.”  
“In the summer,” I promise, breath catching, left hand finding the curve of her waist, right thumb tracing her cheek. Leaning in, she meets me, firm confident lips pressing my own: Open mouthed, hungry. All the practice we’ve had hasn’t blunted my delight, my heart-clenched, stomach-butterflied wonder at the feel of her. We embrace.  
“How was your day?”  
“Gringotts is so boring. I spent today sorting pieces of paper alphabetically and putting them in metal boxes.”  
“Filing cabinets?”  
“Yes. That is the word. Filing.” She shudders.  
“Not the curse-breaking adventure you’d hoped for, then?”  
Her laugh sounds like cut-crystal-on-silver. Look at me, getting all poetic in my old age: the surprises this woman draws out of me.  
“They had me on filing for six months when I first joined the Aurors. Don’t worry, it does get better eventually.”  
“If you say so,” she smiles, “you said there was wine?”  
“Hmm… that there is. Unless you’d like to try other activities first?”  
“Oh, mon petit croissant, have you missed me?”  
“You’ve been at work for nine hours, how could I not?”  
She slips a hand up the back of my t-shirt, smoothing the skin over my spine, right up to the bra.  
“Well, when you put it like that.” She kisses my jaw, just under my ear. “The bedchamber, or here?”  
“Bed, I think, The hallway’s too uncomfy for shagging.”  
She slaps my hip, hard.  
“Ow, that hurt.”  
“Don’t call it that.”  
“What? Shagging? Ouch. Aah! OK, I won’t, I won’t. Truce!”  
“You English are so crass.” Rolling her eyes and her R’s. In Fleur’s mouth ‘crass’ sounds like a come-on.  
“You know that you love me.”  
“Bed. Before I change my mind.”  
“Yes, boss.” I don’t need telling twice. I kiss her quick on the lips and head for our room.


End file.
